Aberration of a Warlock
by KayDrew
Summary: Merlin disappeared 6 months ago and suddenly Arthur and the knights of the round table find him. However, he's changed. He's wild. What happened to him and why? Will friendships last or is Merlin lost to them for good? Please R&R!
1. Findings

The June morning was hot and humid. Anyone who was daft enough to be out doing something would certainly be burnt by the scorching sun as well as covered in a sticky layer of perspiration. Arthur Pendragon and his most loyal Knights of the Round Table were that daft enough to decide a _hunting_ trip was in order for that day. In fact, every single day for the last six months they had ridden out on a _hunting _trip, even after the villagers of Camelot began to whisper that their new King was going barmy.

Arthur Pendragon sat atop his usual chestnut stallion. Flanked on either side of him were Elyan, Gwaine, Percival, and Leon. The knights were dressed in their usual chainmail, but they had forgone the breastplate and cape while Arthur dressed in a lightweight tunic and jerkin – there was no chainmail to be seen on this King.

Noticeably absent was Merlin. There was no prattle or banter. They had been successful in hunting because of the quietness and lack of clumsy footsteps. However, Merlin was missed. It just wasn't the same without his presence.

"Sire, do you really think we'll find him," asked Leon as one of his unruly curls bounced into his eyes. With a gloved hand, he brushed the sweat off his brow as well as curls out of his face. A bit of peeling skin from a recent sunburn fell off as he did. "We have looked here a half a dozen times."

"Well, the princess wouldn't be out here if he didn't," grumbled Gwaine. He shot Leon a dirty look and then glanced over at Arthur, who raised his eyebrows at the nickname and the scowl. Gwaine seemed to choose not to respond other than to shrug his rounded shoulders.

"It's been six months. There's been no sign of him anywhere," Elyan pointed out. "What if he is dead? It's not like Merlin to up and leave."

Arthur grabbed the reigns tighter. The man shook his head in defiance. Anyone looking at this man wouldn't be sure if he was red from sunburn or red in the face from anger (it was a little of both)."He is not dead," the King said in a flat tone. "I know it."

Percival raised a hand. This made all the men stop. He then pointed ahead of him as a laky figure in front of them. "What's that," the man asked as all of the Knights and the King dismount. From this distance, it was impossible to tell who or what it was. "Or should I say, who is it?"

"I don't know," Elyan said. He, along with everyone else drew their swords. For a moment, the men stand there watching the dark-haired being and then they slowly creep towards the figure.

None of them speak. They hardly breathe. They didn't want to startle whoever it was from whatever he was doing. When the group was merely a few meters in front of the being, they halt when Arthur raises a hand and then presses one finger against his dry lips.

"It can't be," whispers Arthur.

"It is," breathes Leon.

"It's Merlin," Elyan confirms.

"Let's go to him," Gwaine remarks. He steps forward, but Arthur puts a hand out to halt him. The dark haired and very tanned knight glances over at the sunburned-faced King.

"We wait. We follow him," declares Arthur in a quiet voice, to which Gwaine sighs, but complies.

For over an hour, they track the man. Much of it was in the same place – never moving and hardly taking in air so as to not disturb this Wildman Merlin. With weather-faded and nature stained clothes hanging off his thin shoulders, he was an odd sight to befall within the woodlands. His scratched up and scarred hands worked steadily as he chose wild raspberries to eat. When he found one or two he liked, Merlin plucked them from their spot and popped them in his mouth. Once he seemed to have gotten his fill, he moved on. Arthur and the knights also followed quietly behind him. The servant seemed not to have noticed their presence yet.

"Where's he going?" asked Percival.

"I don't know," Arthur muttered.

"Where's he been?" Elyan inquired.

"I. don't. know," repeated Arthur with a bit of force. Each word and syllable was pronounced clearly and crisply. "All I know is he's got some explaining to do." His tone was disgruntled, but there was a goofy grin on his face. Arthur was looking forward to hearing the story, if only to hear Merlin prattle on and on about every little detail of his six-month long adventure.

When Merlin stopped at a creek, Percival, Elyan, Leon, Gwaine, and Arthur also stopped. Laying on a large boulder was a wet shirt and pants and leaning up against a tree was a spear, which Merlin grabbed. He walked over to the stream and focused on the water. Merlin only moved when he spotted a fish (which he caught).

Arthur thought it was now the best time to approach the wayward servant. As he stepped forward, his foot landed on a twig. As it snapped underfoot, Merlin looked up. He stared directly at Arthur. His blue eyes were wide and wild. There were filled with fright and there was the distinct feral glint of a fevered mad man. Dirt and blood coated his face, matted his hair, and stained his ragged clothes. In a panic, he screamed. His eyes flash golden and a wind began to blow. It pushed the startled men back. In fact, Arthur was knocked over. Gwaine nearly fell to the ground, but Percival caught him. And Elyan hit a tree and slid down, unconscious.

For a few moments, the warlock gawked at the group. His mouth was agape as the gold in his eyes faded to their usual watery blue. Closing his berry-stained lips, Merlin gulped in a large breath of air and then, after dropping the speared fish, he turned on his heel and ran. Yes, Merlin had explaining to do.

**Well, what did you think? Where was Merlin? What happened? What would you like to see happen? Oh and the title is in honor of one of my favorite fanfics – Of the Aberration of a Hobbit by **Frodo Silverlune


	2. Changes

**Author's Note: I'm so glad you all like this story! But, there has already been over 400 hits and 8 reviews. I did not expect that at all. Thank you! Oh, and Jess, you will see it (although probably not in the way you're expecting) and no, this won't be a slash fic. It's bromance all the way in this piece. Well, here's the new chapter!**

Arthur stared at the spot where the apparent sorcerer Merlin had stood moments before. His mouth had gone completely dry and his legs felt like they would give out at any moment. The King hardly believed what he'd just seen. _It must've been a trick of the light. The sun must've glinted in his eyes. A strong wind must've just blown through just as he looked at us_, reasoned Arthur. However, he knew those thoughts were erroneous. He knew what he'd seen and what he'd felt. It was magic – plain and simple.

"When did he learn that," Gwaine exclaimed.

"I don't know," Arthur admitted as he moved away from Percival. He scratched his eyebrow and then pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're going to go find him. Gwaine, Percival, you will be coming with me. Leon, look after Elyan. You look overheated, anyway, and probably should rest. Don't go anywhere. We'll meet you here."

The rogue knight did not move. He stood his ground, with his arms crossed over his chest. A look of obstinacy formed upon his tanned face. "Why do you want to catch him? You'll just kill him for sorcery," Gwaine asked. His tone was sharp and tinged with curtness.

"I'm not going to kill him!" said the exasperated King. "I just want answers. I want to make sure he's all right." His tone had gone from holding the distinct sounds of vexation to filled with whine.

"Very well, Princess," muttered Gwaine as Percival, Arthur, and Gwaine headed into the woods. The undergrowth was disturbed and thin branches were broken, thus it was easy to track the errant servant.

For once, Gwaine was silent as they hunted Merlin. His eyes were trained on the ground and he wore a serious pouty frown. Percival was also quiet, but that was to be expected, as he kept his gaze on the broken branches. The burly man didn't speak very often and when he did, it was only to say a sentence or two.

The King, however, looked all around him. He was very unnerved. It felt as if something watched them from the shadows. Arthur couldn't see anything, but he was certain something was there.

Arthur wished one of them would say something – say anything. It was too quiet. The quietness might be something that would lure the thing or person that Arthur thought might be watching them. Also, Arthur's mind was reeling and thoughts raced through his mind because he didn't have to focus on speaking,.

_How long had he been practicing magic? Who taught him? Why had he been taught? Was it some plan to overthrow me? Was he possessed? Could that bumbling idiot even be possessed? Where has he been? Was he kidnapped? Who took him? Why? Gods, Arthur, stop thinking! You're giving yourself a headache_, Arthur thought as he took out his water skin. Uncorking it, Arthur took a swig. _Didn't Gaius say no mortal would survive a dorocha? Yet, Merlin did! Why? Arthur Pendragon, stop thinking. It's an order._

"Where do you think he went? I didn't think there were any places to hide in this area of the forest. There are no caves," Percival asked as they entered a clearing. Little flags fluttered in a light and very refreshing breeze. There was a stone bench in the center of it as well as a little bowl cut into a boulder. Water bubbled up from it and the light of the full moon made the inky water glitter like a diamond.

"I don't know where he could be. For all we know, he's up a tree," Arthur muttered. He studied the place and shivered. The King did not like this place – not in the least.

"We should leave here before anyone touches anything. Remember last time," asked Arthur as he strode across the clearing. He kept his hands to his side and he noticed that Percival and Gwaine did the same. None of them wanted to disturb the burial ground and, in turn, be inhabited by a rancorous spirit.

Out of the clearing and back in the woods, the three men spied a small bit of red cloth. Arthur takes it from the branch it hung limply on. He holds on to the fabric with a death grip. Hearing a rustle, Arthur turns just as a wolf barreled towards him.

The King unsheathes Excalibur and the red fabric fluttered to the leaf-covered ground. He swung at the beast with his mighty sword, but the raving creature didn't seem perturbed at this and didn't stop. As Arthur took a step back, his foot caught under a root and his body reeled. This gave the beast time to land a blow. All four feet hit his chest at once and knocked the air out of him. The king flew backwards and landed on the ground. He stared at the beast and the beast stared back at him. His blue eyes glowed with hunger and malice.

"Help!" shouted Arthur. All pretence of nobility was gone. All he cared about was surviving. He screamed as the beast bit his arm and clawed his chest. Arthur realized he should've warn his armor. Just as the wolf was about to tear Arthur's head off his shoulders, Gwaine jumped to his rescue.

Gwaine stabbed the beast in the leg. It yelped and jumped off the King. With a definite limp, it wandered off into the forest. The thing left a blood trail in its wake. It would be easy to track the wolf, the rogue knight realized. But, would Arthur even want to? Could he? Any, why did that wolf have blue eyes?

_It wasn't Merlin, was it, _Gwaine wondered as a distant howl echoed through the woods. It was answered by another howl. However, the rogue knight wasn't paying attention to the sounds. His mind was on the beast's eyes. Those blue orbs had looked so familiar, but he was certain he had never seen the beast before. Gwaine had never seen a wolf before – at least in person he hadn't. _By the Gods, Merlin, you've got some explaining to do! _

**Well, what do you think? I am actually surprised by where this story is headed. I wasn't planning on going in this direction, but it seems to fit. Please, R&R. Tell me what you think!**


	3. Caught

Gwaine tore his gaze away from the trail of the wounded beast and then went over to his King – Arthur. He knelt beside the wounded man and examined the claw and bite marks. The skin on his chest was ripped up a bit, but not mangled – it was a flesh wound. Gwaine thought that was kind of odd. He'd heard stories of wolf attacks and they were all pretty gruesome. The bite on the arm was a bit worse than the chest because it was a little deeper. Both were treatable.

"Wrap me up so we can go," Arthur said. His jaw was clenched and beads of sweat formed on his brow. The King was definitely in pain, but he was not saying anything about it, nor was he crying out.

"Are you sure? You're hurt, Elyan's hurt….maybe we should head back and look for Merlin another day," suggested Gwaine as he dug into his bag. Pulling out some strips of cloth, he wet one of them and cleaned the arm wound.

"I'm positive. We're close. I know it. I'll be fine," Arthur declared as Gwaine wrapped the arm wound. "How's the chest?"

"It's not bad. It's actually like you rolled through briars instead of being nearly sliced in two by a hungry wolf," said Gwaine as he examined, cleaned, and bound Arthur's torso. He patted the King's shoulder as he stood. That should hold you until we get back to Camelot."

"Great," Arthur said. He grabbed Gwaine's hand and pulled himself up. "Let's go! Percival, come on!"

"Which way shall we go," asked Percival as he came over to the wounded King and Gwaine. "We don't know which way Merlin went."

"True," Arthur said slowly. He tapped his foot as he examined the area. Hearing a stumbling gait that reminded the blonde-haired man of Merlin, he pointed in the direction of the blood trail. "We go that way."

Arthur took off with Gwaine and Percival close behind. In single file, they moved as quietly as they possibly could. The men did not want to spook Merlin a second time. If they did then they'd spend even more time hunting for the rogue man. None of them wanted that. They were hot, tired, hungry, and two of the men were injured. No, they should not stay out here for eternity searching for their friend.

The line of blood was relatively straight. It occasionally veered one way or another, but soon straightened out again. This made trailing the wolf and/or Merlin quite easy.

As Arthur and Gwaine pause to examine Arthur's bandages, Percival goes ahead of them. He studies the ground underfoot and notices there was an area of underbrush that had been disturbed. Something had rolled through and flatted the shrubbery. Cautiously, Percival made his way down the slight hill. The burly knight stopped when he spied Merlin bathed in the morning light.

The man was nude, but well concealed by the bushes. The only thing he wore was a necklace. _Where did he get that,_ Percival wondered with a frown. Merlin was dirty, bloody, and pale. His arms shook with the effort to push himself up and off the ground. Finally, the magic use managed to sit himself up. He then rolled over onto all fours. His fingers gripped the ground and he grabbed fistfuls of leaves as he retched and threw up whatever food he had eaten earlier. As the poor and apparently very scared young man threw up, he examined the thin body. He had known that Merlin was thin (just looking at him, fully clothed) was enough to tell he was as scrawny as a bean pole, but the Knight hadn't known the servant was this thin. His gaze stopped at Merlin's leg.

There was a fresh and still bleeding wound. He turned his gaze away from Merlin and to the ground under him. The blood trail ended at Merlin. _Oh God_, thought Percival as he hurried up the hill before Merlin even realized he had been there watching.

"I found him," Percival said to the group.

"Wonderful! Where is he?" Arthur asked.

"Down the hill," the large knight said as he pointed towards the direction he had cone. "But…there is something you should know before we try to go to him."

"What?"

"He's the wolf…"

"_What?_"

"Merlin's the wolf that attacked you."

"It can't be."

"He is wounded in the same place Gwaine stabbed the beast."

"This can't be," the King said with a shake of his head. "You must be joking." Arthur did not wait for an answer. Instead, he just plowed right on to where Merlin crouched. Seeing the very nude Merlin, Arthur covered his eyes.

"Why didn't you warn me," hissed Arthur.

"Err…." Percival said. He didn't have an answer for that question. Therefore, instead of saying anything, he shrugged.

With eyes squinted tightly closed, Arthur crept forward. "Merlin," he said quietly.

The warlock's head shot up. He stared at Arthur warily as sweat dripped down his pale and dirty face. "How do you know my name?" he asked as he stood and wrapped his arms around his waist. Blood dripped down his leg and pooled at his feet.

"I…I just do. That's not important right now. What is, is that you come back to Camelot and get checked out," Arthur said. He gestured to the other two knights, who come down the hill at different angles. "You're hurt. You look half-starved. And, Merlin, you're naked!"

"I can't go back there. I'll be killed. I'll kill. I can't stop myself," stammered the young man.

"It'll be all right. I'll protect you and Camelot."

"You're lying," Merlin shouted. He darted off to the left of Arthur, Gwaine, and Percival. Due to the wound making him limp, he didn't move very quickly.

Arthur looked over at Percival, who was closest to the running man. The King nodded to the Knight as a signal to grab Merlin. After a few strides, Percival was at Merlin's side and had wrapped his arms around the man.

"Let me go," bellowed Merlin as he struggled against Percival's grasp, but Merlin didn't let go. Soon, the warlock tired from his struggle and he stopped. His head lolled to one side as he shoulders slumped and eyes went half-mast.

"You've got some explaining to do," whispered Merlin to Arthur. His voice was raspy and weak from screaming. He then said no more as they climbed the hill.

**Author's Note: Well, here's chapter 3. I'm not entirely happy with it. Let me know what you think of it!**


	4. Home

**Author's Note: I'm sorry for not updating! I've been busy plus there have been several family crises lately. **

As Percival carried the wounded man with his arms wrapped around his arms and chest, he looked down at him. The man might not be fighting the knight, but he sure did look furious. His jaw was clenched and cheek pulsed with the tension. His bright blue eyes were drawn into little slits as he stared ahead of them. His nostrils even flared now and then. This was one volatile person.

The burly knight did not like the warmth that radiated off the warlocks bruised and bandaged body. It was a tepid morning; however, Merlin should not be this sweaty or this warm. "He's got a fever. His skin's burning," Percival declared to the wary group.

Gwaine glanced at Arthur. "Think that's why he doesn't seem to recognize us," asked the wayward knight. "It makes sense."

"I don't know," said Arthur, as he stared at the ground in front of him (much like Merlin was doing). Arthur rubbed his face with his hands as he moaned a little and thought, _I don't know seems to be the motto of the day, doesn't it?_ "I think we will have more answers once we get him back to Camelot. Gaius can get him bandaged up and eh can rest. Everything will be just fine. I know it. _It has to be_." The last part was whispered – it was said to himself and no one, but him was supposed to hear it.

By the time they had reached Leon and Elyan resting in the cool shade of the tree, Merlin's eyes had closed and he was dozing. That was probably a good thing. The King hoped it was. It meant that putting him on a horse would be easier. Truth be told, the blonde-haired man was nervous about that. He thought that Merlin might fight them. Seeing the two knights under the tree, Arthur was pleased to see Elyan awake and sipping on some water.

"Glad to see you awake, Sir Elyan. How are you feeling," asked Arthur as he came over to them.

"I'm fine," Elyan said. "What happened to you?"

"We heard wolves…."

Arthur nodded. "I was attacked. I'm fine. It's nothing – really. I've had worse," the King replied. "Gwaine managed to scare it away. He wounded it."

"You found Merlin," remarked Leon as Percival and Gwaine joined them. "He looks awful. What happened to him?"

"We don't know," Arthur said. "Right now, we need to get him back to Gaius. He's hurt and he's ill. We can figure everything out later. You also need to be seen by Gaius, Elyan."

"As do you," the dark-skinned knight pointed out. As he looked at the dirty man in Percival's arms, he frowned. "Where's his clothes."

"Does it really matter? There are more at the castle," grumbled Arthur as he helped Percival get Merlin on Arthur's horse. Arthur mounted behind the warlock and wrapped a protective arm around his thin chest. "Let's go."

After the other men get on their horses, they rode off to Camelot. As darkness just began to cloak the city, they darted through the gates. Even though the full moon was last night, it still looked quite full. Merlin didn't seem to react to it though. He didn't seem to react to anything. He just slept. The slumber continued as Arthur carried him to Gaius's chambers.

Without knocking, Arthur entered the spacious tower. A path of blood, dripping from the wounds of Merlin and Arthur, was left in their wake. The King did not see Gaius anywhere in the main area of the physician's quarters. "Gaius!" Arthur screamed as he pushed the things off the examining table and lays Merlin onto it. The pots, bowls, and spoons clatter to the stone floor and the glass things shatter with the impact. "Gaius!"

"What's all that racket about," demanded the grumpy doctor. He pulled on his tunic and fastened the belt as he came down the steps and into the room. "What's wrong?"

Arthur stepped aside to let Gaius see the shivering, sweaty man. "We found him, Gaius. We found Merlin," rasped the King. Now that they were home, Arthur felt very tired all of a sudden. With weariness, he sank down onto the bench, but he kept his eyes on the magic user lying in front of him. "He didn't seem to recognize us. I don't know what happened to him. I wish I did."

"We will figure it out. Don't worry. In all due time the truth will be revealed," Gaius said as he began to examine Merlin. "Was he in this condition when you found him?"

The King nodded his head. "Nearly," admitted the young man. "Gwaine stabbed him."

"Why?"

"He was attacking me…"

"I don't understand."

"I don't either," Arthur admitted. "There are too many questions and not enough answers. All I know is that he was a wolf and he attacked me. I think it…he would've eaten me if Gwaine had not intervened, but my wounds aren't bad. They're just flesh wounds. I took care of them earlier."

"Still, I need to examine them."

"Take care of Merlin first."

"Of course," Gaius replied. "Do you think you could get me some fresh water? I need to get the grime off of him and then maybe find him some clothes as well as a bathtub?"

"A bathtub," asked the King as his brow furrowed. "Why do you need a bathtub?"

"I want to get his fever down. A cold bath will help me," explained the Physician.

"I see," Arthur muttered as he pushed himself off the seat. He glanced at the unconscious and wounded man before he dashed from the room. Within fifteen minutes, he returned with servants bringing the tub, clothes, and water.

As the helpers left, Arthur nodded to them. "Thank you," he told them, to which they bowed their heads. Before they were even gone, Arthur had turned his gaze to Merlin. "Will he be all right?"

"I don't know. There's a lot of explaining to do," muttered Gaius as he wiped the dirt and stains off of Merlin's pale face.


	5. Reveal

**I'm sorry for the delay in posting this. What did you all think of the previous chapter? I only got 2 reviews. :(**

With Gaius cleaning the dirt from Merlin's body, the King was given a chance to relax just a little bit. However, he wasn't exactly sure he was pleased with the results of this down time. Every muscle protested from all of the riding and the overuse. The wounds ached and burned. And he was exhausted. Bringing a hand up to his chin, Arthur rested his head in his palm. Eyelids soon drooping and head nodding, the blonde-haired man fell into an unexpected, but not unwanted or unwarranted, slumber.

In the dim, soothing light of the physician's quarters, Gaius looked away from his wounded ward and at the King. He watched him for a good minute to make sure Arthur stayed sleeping before moving from his spot beside Merlin. With each step, Gaius's knees crack and creek from old age and overuse. At the water-filled tub, the man stuck a gnarled finger into the water. It was lukewarm; not nearly cool enough to reduce a fever. Glancing over at Arthur again, he discovered the blonde-haired man was still sleeping contentedly. "Thank the Gods," whispered the physician.

He turned his attention back to the water. Brushing a strand of yellowish-white hair away from his cheek, Gaius plunged his wrinkled hand into the liquid. "Don wæter cald," the elderly man chanted with his eyes closed. As Gaius's eyes flash gold under them lastly closed lids, the water went frigid. Out of instinct, he pulled his digests from the bathtub.

Shaking the water off, he gathered many woolen blankets as he could and laid them beside the tub. Merlin would need them after being doused in the freezing water. "I am sorry, dear boy," whispered Gaius after going back over to the scrawny and fevered young man. "You are not going to like this at all, but it must be done, lest you want to get sicker."

He was about to pick the warlock up, but then he spotted the stab wound. "What have you gotten yourself into, boy," muttered Gaius with a heavy sigh. Checking to see if Arthur was still sleeping, he eyed the King.

"No more brass, George," muttered Arthur in his sleep. The King's brow was furrowed in obvious annoyance. While Merlin had been missing, Arthur had been forced to take a new servant. That role, to dismay of the King, had fallen on the shoulders of George. Gaius couldn't help but chuckle a little bit at Arthur's sleep talking request. At least Arthur was sleeping, even though he was talking.

After looking back at Merlin, the physician hovered his hand over the wound. "Hælan," whispered Gaius. As he did the second spell, perspiration formed at his hairline. Swiping it away, he examined his handiwork. Already the the bleeding had stopped and the wound had clotted over and the skin was starting to knit together. IfArthur noticed that the knife wound had healed up so quickly. Gaius would have to do some quick thinking and come up with a believable explanation for the quick healing.

Placing his hands under his neck and knees, Gaius carried the raven-haired warlock to the bathtub. Merlin did not stir as they made their awkward way to the large basin. As Gaius lowered him into the frigid water, Merlin's glassy, blue eyes snap open. With mania glimmering in his eyes, he fought Gaius. His arms flailed and he attempted to scratch, punch, and slap at his guardian. "No!" Merlin bellowed, waking Arthur.

The King bolted upright. Her looked around with a little bit of confusion in his blue eyes and then he saw Merlin fighting and struggling against a surprisingly calm physician. "You're Killing him!"

"Don't be ridiculous. I am not killing him. The water feels colder to him than it actually is due to the fever. If I can get him in there, it will help him greatly," Gaius explained as he dodged the warlock's flailing hand. "Can you help me?"

With wounds and stiff, overused muscles protesting, Arthur stood from his seat on the bench. "What can I do?"asked the King.

"Grab his ankles while I press on his shoulders," instructed Gaius. After Arthur wrapped both hands around Merlin's ankles, which was much harder than he had expected, the physician began to push on the warlock's thin shoulders. When his bare bottom touched the water, Merlin gripped the tub's sides so hard his knuckles turned white. The young warlock would not relent his death grip and so Gaius had to reach around and pry each finger from the metal tub. When Merlin was finally sitting in the cold water, Arthur and Gaius were both huffing, puffing, and sweating.

"How long do we keep him in there," Arthur asked as he looked at his arm's wound, which was bleeding again.

"Not too long, sire. Only about ten or fifteen minutes. We don't want him to get too cold," explained Gaius as he turned his gaze away from Merlin and to the wounded King. "Now...let me take care of you. You're wounded."

"I'm fine. Shouldn't someone be holding Merlin's head above the water, Gaius? He's up to his neck in frigid water," Arthur asked as he shied away from Gaius's hand.

"He'll be fine. Now, let me examine your wounds," the physician said. His voice was firm. As Arthur sighed and stripped his shirt off, Gaius grabbed a clean cloth and bowl of water. The elderly man cleaned the wounds that covered the King's arm. Slathering a pungent salve on the wounds, he wrapped gauze around the lacerations. "There. I'll check the dressings tomorrow."

Arthur nodded as he put his shirt back on. "Who did this to him?" the King asked.

"Many. You'd be surprised how many enemies Merlin actually has."

Arthur stared at Gaius with wide eyes. "You've got to be kidding me! Merlin has enemies? He couldn't hurt a fly," the King exclaimed.

"Don't underestimate him, Arthur. He has quite a few tricks up his sleeves."

Arthur couldn't help but chuckle. "You can say that again," the blonde-haired man muttered. When Gaius raised an eyebrow at the comment, Arthur realized the physician had no idea what had happened. "When we were out there, I scared him and he blew us back...the knights and I...with magic."

"I see..."

"Did you know he could do that?"

"Hmmm... yes, I suppose I did know."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"I think you know the answer."

"Yes, I suppose I do. How long has he used it?"

"Since he was born. Merlin didn't learn magic. He is magic."

"I see..." Arthur rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. "I still wish I knew who took him."

"Morgana," muttered Merlin as he began to shiver.

"She's got some explaining to do," whispered Arthur as he pulled Merlin from the water. Wrapping him in a blanket, he carried him to the bed and laid him on it. Staring at the weakened man, a frown formed on his face as his gaze hardened at the thought of what his sister possibly did to Merlin.


	6. Plans

**I'm back! Sorry for such a long delay in an update. In July my nana passed away. In August I had some training to do. And, now it's September. Time sure flies! **

A woman paced within a cluttered, tiny hovel. Dark and dank, some could say the bowels of the earth were friendlier than this grim spot. Half the room was filled with a giant cauldron. On the other side of the room, a bed was cramped into an alcove. Somehow, a moth-eaten and overstuff chair as well as a wooden, rickety table and chair set had been crammed into the tight quarters.

How could that servant just slip away without a trace? It didn't make sense! _If he got back to Camelot…_ No, Morgana would think about that. Not right now. Surely, Merlin couldn't have found his way 'home' nor could Arthur have discovered his menservants whereabouts. As far as the pathetic excuse a King was concerned, Merlin had run off or just disappeared. That was how she wanted it.

Merlin couldn't return. For some reason, that boy with his idiotic smile and insipient chatter was a good luck charm. All the while Merlin was in Arthur's presence, he never seemed to lose. In fact, the man had always garner respect when the manservant had been by his side. Morgana didn't understand why that was so. Merlin wasn't special. He was puny, weak, and often useless as well as a murderer, a dissever, and a liar.

Morgana's lips twisted into a smirk as she stopped pacing. "I wonder how my dear brother is doing without little Merlin at his side," quipped the witch to the empty hovel. Going over to the wooden table, she leaned over a large, clay bowl filled with water. Picking up the little dagger that lay beside it, she pricked her finger. As blood bubbled from the wound, Morgana dripped it into the liquid-filled bowl.

"Diegol cnytte, gewitte me yst, aliese hine, to Camelot he cymþ," she chanted. In the water, she saw Arthur and Gaius, discussing something as they stood in the physician's quarters. Arthur looked alarmed while Gaius wore an expression of great concern on his wrinkled face. Both men made wild and animated gestures. They also kept looking over their shoulders at something.

"Oh, poor Gaius," Morgana mocked the image, although she wished she could see what in the world they were looking at. "Surely talking about your _dear_ Merlin and worrying your sweet heart about it. Pathetic." She laughed a little, but the witch stopped in mid-laugh. The image changed, revealing a sweating and pale warlock.

With eyes wide, a scream rips from her throat. She thrashes her hand through the water. The images fade. Morgana holds onto the chair in front of her. Her chest heaves and her lip curls into a snarl of disgust.

Snatching up the scrying bowl from the table, she hurled it. The container smashed against the wall behind the cauldron. Water rolled down the wall; the fluid actually looked like liquid fire – it was orange from the flames in the controlled inferno keeping the room warm.

Her snarl turned to a smirk of resolution. "I think it's time to pay my dear brother a little visit," she mused, grabbing her black cloak. Throwing it on, she strode out the door. Stopping, Morgana turned back around. The witch grabbed the blade. Wiping it off, she bent and strapped it to her leg. Morgana might need to fight by mortal means, although that was at last resort. Satisfied, she lowered her skirt. Smoothing any wrinkles out of the dress, Morgana threw the cloak on and headed out the door.

"Arthur has some explaining to do," she mused. Going around to the back of the hovel, she grabbed the saddle and bridle, which she placed on her black stallion. Tightening all of the straps and buckles, the dark-haired woman mounted the beast.

Roughly jabbing her horse's side and pulling on the reigns, she started out for Camelot. Her mind was reeling with the information the scrying bowl had just revealed to her. How could the warlock be alive? How could Arthur even get near him? Didn't the so called King of Camelot know that the manservant was a wolf?

_He would have to be blind not to know. Or maybe he didn't see him change_, thought Morgana with yet another smirk and a shake of her head. _If that is the case, won't Arthur be surprised what that little varmint can do now. Oh, I would love to be there to see that monumental event. He won't know what to do with himself._ The thought of this scene was pleasing. It made her feel a bit giddy in fact!

Maybe it was a good thing that Arthur found his errant manservant. Maybe that's how it was supposed to be. Maybe she will not have to do a thing expect stand back and watch the fray unfold. With Merlin's transformation on the horizon (the curse made the servant changed every night). There will be chaos. No one will know what to do. Blood will be shed. Merlin, the beast, would surely show no mercy. In the six months he had been in the woods surrounding her hovel Morgana had seen how beastlike Merlin could actually be. Morgana actually could not wait to see Merlin the wolf in action within a confined area that was Camelot.

It will be the events of the bastet attacks all over again. Many had been killed under that beast's bloodthirsty nature. However, the witch thought things might unfold a little bit differently and the outcome might not be the same. Merlin was Arthur's friend. He was also the friend of the Knights. They would not want to kill him, thus more people would surely be slaughtered. Perhaps even Arthur Pendragon will die at Merlin's clawed paw. If that was the case, Morgana could just step right in and take her rightful place upon the throne as the true heir to the throne. Oh, what a sweet thought that was! She could not wait for that to happen and the woman hoped it would come about sooner rather than later.

**Note: According to the Merlin wikia, that's one of the scrying spells used. Oh, I hope you liked my Morgana. I've never written for her. **


	7. Truths

After a four-days ride, Morgana reached the gates of Camelot. Facing the guards, she held out a slender hand. With eyes flashing, both knights (who had their spears held out) were sent flying against the stony wall behind them. Hearing the connection of stone, metal, and bone, she passed without a glance at the fallen men.

Looking around, a smirk covered her face. All of the entries and windows were closed and barred against an attack. Some of the shutters and doors were shredded. Most, if not all, were covered in claw marks. Blood stained the sides of the buildings. It appeared that Merlin had indeed taken his wrath out upon Camelot.

Sliding off the back of her steed, she tied the reins to a post. As she walked up the massive steps and entered the castle, she pulled the hood of her black cloak over her head. "Arthur. Oh, Arthur," she called in a sing-song voice. There was no answer. "Figures."

Entering the throne room, Morgana found that the King was not there either. Oh well. He'll be here soon, thought the sorceress as she strode to the throne and sat upon it. Resting her elbow on the armrest, she leaned her head against her hand.

Soon enough, Arthur strode into the room. Seeing Morgana, he drew his sword. "What are you doing here," he snapped. "What do you want?"

Morgana rolled her eyes as she shifted in the seat so she was sitting with her spine pressed against the back. "Really Arthur, is that how you greet your sister? What _horrible _manners you have," she said. "Can't I pay my dear brother a visit?"

"Morgana, what do you want," demanded the King a second time.

In exasperation, she sighed. "Oh, you're no fun," Morgana quipped as she stood and walked over to Arthur (who still had his sword drawn and pointed towards her). "I'm looking for my pet. You seem to have found him the other day and I'd like to take him off your hands. When I arrived, I noticed he was causing an _awful _lot of trouble. I'm sure you'd like to dispose of him…get him out of Camelot so that your people may once again be safe."

"What did you do to him?" the King asked.

"I turned into what he actually is Arthur! He's a monster – a beast. He doesn't care of anyone, but himself. He's a natural killer with a thirst for blood and vengeance all in the name who knows what."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur demanded, keeping his sword pointed towards Morgana. "Merlin couldn't kill a fly much less a human being."

"Like you don't know," Morgana said. She cocked her head to one side as she examined Arthur. There was a confused expression upon the Kings face. Obviously, he didn't know what his manservant was capable of. "Maybe you don't. Arthur, he poisoned me! He killed my sister. He killed _our _Uncle. I found him with his neck broke and a scrap of red fabric as proof. Inadvertently, he killed the druids – the people who could've helped me."

"Agravine betrayed me and so did you, Morgana, and Morgause," he said.

"You're a hypocrite! In any other instance you would damn the people who committed such heinous crimes and yet, you brush my words off as if we were talking about the weather. It's really _wonderful _to see what sort of king Camelot has," the dark-haired woman replied.

"Did it ever occur to you that I don't believe you," Arthur growled. "Now, I order you to tell me how I can reverse Merlin's curse?"

"Why should I?" Morgana demanded. She cocked her head to one side as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Give me a good reason."

"If you don't, I'll slit your throat faster than you could blink," warned Arthur.

"Oo….I am so scared! Please, that I such a pathetic and empty threat. I don't believe it for an instant," she said, shaking her head. "I could melt that blade before it ever wavers."

"Morgana, what do you want?" moaned Arthur. He was getting annoyed. The conversation didn't seem to be going anywhere.

"I want to see you suffer. I want to see Camelot crumble and fall," she replied in a blunt tone. "Which, that appears to be happening. Our little wolf Merlin is terrorizing the people and striking them down. I didn't think things would go so smoothly. I don't think I'll even have to intervene."

"Camelot will not fail! I will stop this. Mark my words, I will stop this. Camelot will prevail," the King declared

"We shall see about that, won't we brother? It will be fun to watch you squirm and suffer. There's little you can do to help that sniveling manservant who you can a friend," Morgana said. "The curse will end though…if Merlin's killed or blood is split on the necklace."

Arthur did not like either choice. He did not want to sacrifice anyone to suffer the same curse Merlin was under. He also did not want to murder his best friend. He couldn't. Doing that would be like killing himself, but worse. Arthur honestly did not think he could live with himself if he killed his best friend.

The dismal thoughts made Arthur frown and Morgana laugh a little. "Oh, brother, you do worry too much," she quipped, stepping around him and his knights. "It was really good seeing you, again. Let's do this again. Good luck. You'll need it!" With a little, pseudo-cute wave, Morgana exited the castle.

"Sire, what do you want us to do? Shall we go after her? Throw her in the dungeons," asked Leon. "After all she's done to us we could easily try her for treason and worse."

Arthur shook his head. "No, Leon. Let her go. She'll be back. We'll deal with her if and when that time comes," replied Arthur as he headed to the door.

"Where are you going?" asked the Knight. "We have council! We've got to solve this current crisis."

"I have to go talk to Merlin. He's got a lot of explaining to do," Arthur whispered. With that, he left the throne room.


	8. Ideas

Arthur barged into the physician's quarters. A determined, severe expression blazed in his azure eyes and his jaw was tensed and pulsing. "I need to talk to Merlin...now," he said to the physician, who was tending to Merlin's arrow wound from several days earlier.

"I'm right here," Merlin pointed out. He was obviously confused about the whole situation. His brow was slightly puckered as he first looked at the King and then at Gaius. He hissed when the physician slathered the rest of a healing poultice and securely wrapped the healing injury.

"Ow, be careful, Gaius. There's a feeling person underneath that wound," Merlin griped.

"They never said healing was easy," remarked Gauis as he wiped his hands off on a towel.

It was now Arthur's turn to be confused. Never before, in all of his days, had he ever been so blatantly and flippantly ignored. Staring at the two men before him, his eyebrows rose in a 'You have got to be kidding me' look. Not wanting to waste any more time, the King cleared his throat.

"Excuse me," Arthur began. "I'd like to speak to Merlin alone. Right now."

Gaius glanced over at Merlin, who shrugged and then nodded. "Very well," remarked the Physician as he strode over to his workbench and grabbed a couple of jars of salve. "I need to deliver some salves to the knights. Might I suggest you work them a little less hard, sire? They are quite miserable. They can hardly lift their arms above their heads after a brisk training session."

"They'll survive," muttered Arthur as Gaius left the building. As the door clicked closed, Arthur turned and looked over his shoulder at it as if of to make sure Gaius hadn't decided to return. After a minute, and the physician had not come back in the room, he returned to glaring at Merlin.

"You needed to see me," the manservant said.

"Yes," agreed Arthur, crossing his arms over his chest. "Morgana came to see me. She seemed to want you back."

Panic caused Merlin's blue eyes to widen and his breath to come out in heavy hitches. "What...what else did she say?" he asked.

"She said you poisoned her and killed Agravine, among other things," Arthur informed Merlin. "Is there any truth in her words?"

Merlin just stared at Arthur. His lips were pressed together in a tight line. The warlock found his could not respond; Merlin couldn't even nod.

"Well, Merlin, what do you have to say for yourself? Did you do those things or is Morgana lying to me," demanded the King. His voice boomed. Arthur was so loud, that the rafters shook and dust fell down around the room.

Slowly, Merlin nodded. "Yes, I did do those things. She wasn't lying," whispered the warlock, keeping his gaze lowered (Merlin did not want to see the hatred, the anger, or the hurt in Arthur's eyes). His voice shook when he admitted his crimes.

"Why?" barked Arthur as he pulled out his sword and pointed it at the pitiful warlock. "Why did you do it? Why shouldn't I just skewer you right here and now, murderer?"

"Maybe you should…"

Merlin's words took the King off-guard. It made him lower the sword just a little bit. A frown crossed the blonde-haired man's face. It was as if he was saying, _This kid really is an idiot._

"I did do all of those things," Merlin continued. "But, I only did them to protect you or Camelot. I hate what I had to do. I didn't want to. I really didn't."

Arthur nodded as his frown deepened. "All right, I believe you. I don't know why I do, but I do," said the King with a nod.

"You do," asked the warlock. "So…what are we going to do now?"

"We're going to get that curse lifted."

"How? There is no way to break it, is there?" Merlin replied. It was his turn to look confused. His brow was knitted together as he frowned.

"Actually, I think there is a way to get rid of it. Other than requesting I return you to her because apparently she thinks of you as her _pet_, she told me about the curse."

"Really and you believe her?"

"I don't want to, but she's the one who took you and she's the one who put the curse upon you, so who else should we believe?"

"Good point. So, what did she say?"

"She said that the only way to break the curse is for another being's blood has to be spilt on it. That, or you are killed. Personally, I think she hopes the latter will happen," Arthur explained grimly.

Merlin couldn't help but nod in agreement. There was never a truer statement. "I don't want to die and I sure do not want another to suffer this curse. It's miserable!"

"I know you don't want to die and I know you don't want anyone else to have to go through this ordeal. But, what choice do you have? You can't take the necklace off. You can't continue changing and terrorizing the village."

"Chickens…"

"What?"

"We give the curse to a chicken."

"Are you mad, Merlin?"

"No…no, listen. We grab a chicken and I kill it. It's blood will drip on the necklace and that'll be that."

"You know, that isn't a half-bad idea. What will we do with the chicken?"

"It'll be a little present."

"Let's act quickly. The sun will be setting soon."

Merlin nodded. Then the warlock the King went outside. After a good 20 minutes of chasing a chicken, Merlin caught one. Taking his knife, Arthur pierced the bird and held it over the necklace. Just as the sun set, the blood hit the necklace and Merlin didn't change.

Laughing Merlin took the bird inside and put it in a pot of boiling water along with carrots and herbs. The next morning, he, with the pot of chicken stew, rode out to where he'd been living for the last 6 months. Sitting it on the ground the warlock pulled out a note and the necklace. It read, **Enjoy!** As Merlin rode off, he heard Morgana furious scream - she had found the soup – and he laughed.

The end

**Well, what did you think? **


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